my hands are cold (my heart is gold)
by essential.invisible
Summary: A boarding gone slightly wrong changes the course of a relationship. Dutchy, Kate, post 4.03.
1. i was doing just fine (before i met you)

**an:**so I've basically binge watched Sea Patrol in the last few weeks, and am diving back into fandom. First fic in a while, but Kate and Dutchy have kinda done me in. I'm hoping this is a first in a series, following a somewhat alternate start to their relationship, but this can be read as a standalone, which is why it's being marked as complete. Please let me know what you think (good or bad!).

**eta:**i've had some inspiration hit, so this is going to continue as a series.

**timeline:**between 4.03 - The Right Stuff & 4.04 - Ransom with one point of difference - Kate and Mike don't sleep together in 4.02.

**pov:** dutchy

:::

**i was doing just fine (before i met you)**

:::

"What the hell do you think you're pulling out there?"

He stops at the sound of the voice, then turns his eyes meeting hers as he tries to keep the pain from showing on his face. Getting shoved down from the deck to the hold packed full of rotting crates on a FFV hadn't been the highlight of his day. All he wants now was to get off the ship and enjoy what was left of his shore leave. "I'm just doing my job, Ma'am."

She raises her eyebrows at him, then steps inside the ward room, forcefully closing the door behind her. "You know, I really don't get you Dutchy. You stepped in front of me during a boarding, again, and this time you got hurt."

"It's my job to protect you -."

"It's not your job to protect me, Dutchy. I can look after myself, and I need you to trust me out there," she tells him as she steps closer.

"You saw what happened out there, X – if you'd gone down those stairs and through those crates, I can guarantee we'd be having a very different discussion right now," Dylan shoots back, stepping closer himself, wincing as his muscles protest. "You're not even half my size, that fall could have seriously hurt you." He can visualise it as he speaks, and he moves forward without noticing, still caught up in the nightmarish reel playing out in his head. _The X, limbs flailing, crashing through crates and bottles, blood – she was so small, tiny really, what had been a few scrapes and bruises on him -_

"Okay, maybe you weren't entirely wrong this time," she allows, nodding slightly. "But I need you to trust me Dutchy – and if you can't trust me, then trust that I can do the job."

"Look X, I'm just doing my job," he says, leaning forward. Even leaning as he is, she is still a good head shorter than him. "And I need _you_ to let me do it."

"Dutchy, I've been XO on this ship for almost 2 years now, I can handle myself!" She shakes her head, and then steps forward, refusing to be intimidated. "God, I never had these issues with Buffer, even when I first came on board!"

Dylan scowls, and looks away, the mention of his predecessor not helping his mood any. Sailors are posted to different ships all the time, and generally most adapted – the Hammersley crew haven't been unwelcoming as such, but some hadn't necessarily held back on the fact that they miss their crewmates. That they, that _she_, still refers to him as 'Buffer', as if that was been a role filled and is now no longer needed, that _Dylan_ isn't needed – "_I'm_ your buffer, X," he bites out, as his eyes find hers again.

Kate shakes her head, a hand reaching up to push her hair out of her face. "Damnit Dutchy, I didn't mean it like that." She stares up at him, regret evident on her face. "Look, I don't – "

"It's okay, X," Dylan interrupts, needing her to stop talking. If she asks him again, looks up at him with those eyes, he isn't entirely sure that he'd be able to stop the whole sordid mess from spilling out. She is angry at him, but anger was better than condemnation, or worse, pity. "Let it go, Kate."

She raises her brows, her eyes challenging. "I can't let it go, _Dylan_."

If he was asked later, Dylan couldn't have said why he'd done it. Oh there were a number of possible reasons – he wants off this damn ship, he wants to get kicked out of the Navy for breaking frat regs, he doesn't want to tell her the truth, her face, her eyes, the damned way she'd just said his name – he ducks his head, hesitating for a sparse second before sliding his mouth against hers.

Kate sucks in a breath, but she doesn't move, doesn't step away even as he kisses her again and he wonders if he hadn't shocked her still. When her hands move to his shoulders, he shifts back imperceptibly, waits for her to shove him away. Instead, one hand curls around the back of his neck, pulls him down so that she can return his kiss. His hands move of their own volition, one reaching up to cradle her shoulder, the other moving through the silky strands of her hair. Dylan presses closer, changing the angle of their mouths, deepening the kiss, and feels a deep thrum of satisfaction when she allows the movement, relaxing into him.

A loud burst of laughter in the passageway, and Swain's cheerful voice pulls them apart. Dylan stares down at her, taking in her wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Pulling his hands from her hair, he watches as she blinks up at him, and opens her mouth. He'll take the rip if she wants to give him one, but damnit, she'd kissed him back.

"Oh, sorry – didn't realize you were in here X," Swain interrupts, swinging the door open. "We're just getting ready to dock."

"Uh," she clears her throat, looking away from Dylan to meet Swain's eyes. "It's okay, I was just leaving."

Swain shifts so that she can move through the doorway, before turning back to Dylan. "Rip you a new one, did she?" He smiles at Dylan sympathetically. "Never mind, can't have been worse than when Buffer screwed up."

Dylan scowls. The thought of Kate dealing with _Buffer's_ screw up the way she'd dealt with his sends his mood plummeting back to earth. _God, what was he doing? He'd be lucky if she didn't have him written up. _He stares at the doorway she'd left through, barely aware of Swain's sympathetic smile shifting to a stifled smirk.

"It's like that it, is it?" Swain waits at the door, shaking his head. "C'mon mate, you can get the first round and tell me all about it."

:::


	2. trying to find the truth (sometimes )

**an:**so i've decided to continue this, hope you enjoy. thanks for the reviews so far!

**timeline:**between 4.03 - The Right Stuff & 4.04 - Ransom with one point of difference - Kate and Mike don't sleep together in 4.02.

**pov:** kate

:::

**trying to find the truth (sometimes the heart is deceiving)**

:::

"Lick, sip, suck, go!" Behind her, Kate can hear the raucous laughter of her crew as they crowd around the bar. She'd escaped as soon as they'd brought out the tequila – she can down a guava mojo with the best of them, but tequila hits her hard and fast, and the last thing she needs is to be blitzed around her shipmates.

She walks out of the dimly lit club and into the crowded streets – it's still fairly early, but Mike has only granted them Cinderella leave. Just the thought of him is enough to kill the light buzz she has going. She'd really thought they might have had a chance to make things work – he'd finally, _finally_, taken a shore leave posting and they'd even had a date planned. Then the debacle with 2Dads and the crocodile had happened, and she'd spent her date night with Nikki and a bottle of wine. She'd been ready to reconsider, had decided that _maybe_ Mike wasn't an emotional coward, had been so close to calling him – and then he'd turned up on the Hammersley, once again her CO. He'd made some half-hearted comment about keeping this a short posting, but Kate isn't blind. She's seen how he is with Maxine and Ryan – he hasn't been that open with her in years.

Kate has spent most of this patrol avoiding him where she could, in the hopes of marshalling her thoughts and trying to figure out where she stood.

And then Dutchy had blindsided her in the wardroom.

Kate resists the urge to re-join the crew and drink her problems away. As if she didn't have enough man drama in her life! That kiss had come out of nowhere – one minute they'd both been having a go at each other again, the next his lips had been on hers. She'd kissed him back. That's where she keeps getting stuck - what on earth had she been thinking? She isn't blind, she knows that Dutchy is very attractive, but it's Mike that she is meant to be committed to.

Except she clearly isn't invested enough to derail her career. The thought had occurred to her previously, but it has been at the forefront more often than not, lately. She has feelings for Mike, but she isn't going to request a transfer off the ship – she hasn't had enough experience yet that a shore posting would be beneficial for her, and another ship would just mean that she would never see him. Mike, on the other hand, has been turning down promotions right and left – she's heard enough complaints about Marshall's 'requests' in the past to know that he could have asked for a shore posting in Cairns. Except he hadn't – and didn't that mean he isn't invested enough in her? She'd told him the truth earlier – she really wasn't prepared to settle for second best, and she hadn't only been talking about Dutchy.

For all his talk about keeping it professional, he also hasn't taken her issues with Dutchy seriously enough in her opinion – the black eye not-withstanding, Kate needs a buffer who worked with her, not around her. She had hoped the boarding on this patrol would have gone better, but he is still too over-protective. While she is grateful that she hadn't been the one to take the shove into the crates, she is his XO. It is a risk she should have taken. He's already been hurt far too much during the short time he'd been on the Hammersley – he'd copped a beating while saving Ryan, and then what happened today –

Kate shakes her head, annoyed with herself. She'd come out in the hopes of clearing her mind, but there she went, dredging it all up again. She focuses on her surroundings, determined to put the Hammersley, her CO and her buffer out of mind for the rest of the evening. She's left the crew behind, Mike was still on the ship, and she still had hours of leave coming to her. She was going to make the most of it.

"X, hey, X!"

Kate sighs, shoulders slouching a little. She should've known better than to jinx it, even in her thoughts. She turns around, not feeling anywhere near ready for this confrontation. "Dutchy – I thought you were with the rest of the crew?"

The tall blond shrugs. "Not much fun when I can't drink – Swaino's got me on pain killers."

"Oh, okay." Kate winces inwardly. What is she meant to say to him? She isn't going to bring up the kiss. She doesn't even want to think about the kiss (not that it stops her mind from flashing back to the heat radiating from his body, the heavy weight of his large hands in her hair – _damnit Kate_) She can feel the flush rising on her cheeks, and hopes he'll put it down to her drinking.

"Listen, X – " Dutchy pauses, and she takes vicious satisfaction in knowing that he is uncomfortable as well. "About earlier,"

"There's nothing to talk about." She cuts in swiftly. "We'll just chalk it up to high emotions, yeah?" She isn't going to have this conversation with him here. Or at all.

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, don't do that." Kate bites out, annoyed.

"I'm sorry?" Dutchy is starting to look annoyed as well. "I was agreeing with you."

"The whole 'yes, ma'am' thing – we both know that you have a problem with me." She's still sore about that – everybody else on the ship seems to get on great with him, his previous _female_ commander has given him a glowing recommendation – so what is his issue with _her_?

"Not this again," he shoots back. "I've told you, I'm just doing my job." He steps towards her, and Kate instinctively steps back. He looks startled, and a little resigned. "I'm not going to hurt you, X."

Kate isn't going to lie to him. "I know that. I'm not scared of you." Yeah, he can be a little intimidating, but while she might have issues with him as a buffer, she doesn't think he'd ever hurt her physically. She'd stepped back for another reason entirely – not that she really thinks he'd kiss her again, but then again, she hadn't been expecting their earlier kiss, either. And now she is thinking about it again. She flushes again, cursing her pale skin.

He raises his eyebrow, before smiling a little. "Oh."

There is a wealth of emotion in that one word, but she isn't going to touch it with a ten-foot pole. "Look Dutchy, we have to find a way to work together, or this isn't going to end well."

"We'll settle, X." He looks uncomfortable. "Maybe it's just going to take time."

Yeah, time and one of them being less stubborn, which has about as much of a chance as happening as hell freezing over, so where does that leave them? "Yeah, maybe."

They stand in silence for a long minute, before Kate decides to offer an olive branch. "We've still got a few hours of leave left. I'm going to have a look around the markets." She leaves it open-ended, giving him the option to join her if he wants. She isn't sure which option she prefers. Judging from the torn look on his face he isn't either.

She sighs. Maybe she'd have been better off with the tequila shots.

:::


	3. all i see (is green eyes)

**an: **so this sort of got away from me, it was meant to be dutchy's pov through ransom, but well… this happened instead. i swear, we'll get through season four eventually! also, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it definitely helps get me in the mood for writing! slight rating change, as dutchy can't keep his language pg.

**timeline: **still post 4.03 and pre 4.04.

**pov: **dutchy

:::

**all i see (is green eyes)**

:::

They've been idling through the markets for the last twenty minutes in complete silence. It's loud and crowded, bustling with locals and tourists alike, music blaring from all sides. Dylan had kept a measured distance from the X at the start, but the crowds are pressing closer, jostling them together. The first time someone walks past abruptly, shoving the X aside, he clenches his fist, but doesn't move. The second time it happens, she lets out a small sound of surprise, and he moves instinctively, catching her arm and steadying her on her feet. He tenses, waiting for her to snap at him. He's overprotective, and he knows she doesn't appreciate it.

"Thank you." She says quietly, surprising him. "I'm not against accepting help when I need it, Dutchy."

It's disconcerting, how easily she can read him sometimes. "Maybe you don't always realize when you could use the help, X." He can't resist the opening, though the glare she shoots him indicates he should have probably tried harder. Neither of them are going to budge on this. She shakes her head, but doesn't protest when he stays close, his height and bulk carving a path through the crowd.

She stops at a booth, running her fingers over what looks like a jade green dress. He's never really done the 'shopping with a girl' thing, and it's a little weird that he's doing it with the X. He's a guy, he can admit that she's hot, but she's also his boss, and he knows that nothing can happen between them, kiss notwithstanding. It doesn't stop him imagining her in the dress though, and before he can stop himself he blurts, "you should get it." When she turns to him with arched eyebrows, he realizes with horror that he's still talking, "it's pretty, it'll match your eyes." _Fuck Dylan, shut up. _"The dress, I mean. It'll suit you," he stammers.

His humiliation is complete when the vendor, an elderly woman with white hair and heavily wrinkled skin, throws her two cents in. "Your husband has good taste, miss, it'll be very pretty. You should be buying your wife these," she scolds, turning to Dylan. "Happy wife, happy life."

"Um," he says, wondering if he should cut his losses and run. The X is looking between him and the vendor, nonplussed. He thinks he could gap it before she could catch up, maybe.

"Oh, no, we're not married," the X tries to laugh it off, though he can see she is uncomfortable. Because he needs another reason for her to be upset at him. "We just work together."

The old lady raises her own eyebrows. "Well, the young man is still right." She smiles, "you do have pretty eyes, and the dress will suit you."

"I didn't say you have pretty eyes!" he interjects. "I mean, they're not not pretty, they're your eyes, and they're gre-" he cuts his rambling off, realizing that he's probably throwing fuel on the fire. He looks intently at the neatly folded clothes, avoiding both women. The X is probably steamed up, and he can't really blame her.

"Okay, moving on." She finally says, and he looks up to see that she seems to be fighting back a laugh. She exchanges a few pleasantries with the vendor, before she picks the dress up and holds it against herself. He looks away again quickly when the old lady barks out a laugh. "It's alright Dutchy, I'm not trying it on," she says to him, a teasing lilt to her voice as she gives the old lady money. She says goodbye to the vendor, clutching the bag in her hand as she begins walking again.

He wonders if he should apologize, before deciding to keep his mouth shut. God knew what else would come out. They wander the next three or four stalls without incident, though at the last line of booths they run into Swain, who seems to be picking out children's clothes.

"Hey Swain," the X calls out, seeming to miss the surprised look the medic gives when he sees the two of them together. "That for Chloe? She can't be big enough for those already!"

"I can't quite believe it either," Swain says. "She'll be starting daycare soon!"

Dylan watches them interact with interest. They seem fairly comfortable with each other, and the conversation flows freely. He knew that Swain had a daughter, but hadn't realized that the X knew her.

"I'll have to pop in and catch up with Sally sometime," the X says, startling him further.

"She'd like that, Chlo's been missing her 'Aunt Katie' as well." Swain seems unable to decide between the clothes, and the X laughs as he buys all three outfits. "Thanks for staying in touch with her, by the way, X."

"Are you kidding? Your wife's great, Swaino. She was a blessing when I was shot, don't know how she did it with a newborn in tow!"

"When were you shot?" Dylan demands, breaking into the conversation. His gut clenches, and he knows he's overreacting, but. _But._ It's the X.

"Oh, a few years ago now. It was just a graze, but it was my right arm, so I was kind of useless for a while there. Nikki and the guys were helping me out, but then they were crash-sailed, so Sally offered to help me out." She explains, as they start walking again.

"Well," Swain starts, "there was that time you were shot in the back by that merc who stabbed Charge."

"Wait, what?!" Dylan can't believe what he's hearing. And she thinks he's _over_protective? Sounds like she's needed an extra set of eyes for a few years.

The X rolls her eyes. "I was wearing a vest, Dutchy." She's pensive for a few moments though, and he thinks she's not as unaffected as she's pretending to be.

"You know, X, I swear the Hammersley didn't see as much action before you joined us," Swain jokes.

"Yeah, yeah, keep going Swaino," she threatens, though there's a smile on her face.

"No, definitely keep going, Swain," Dylan adds with a smirk. By the time they return to the Hammersley, the smirk has long faded, and he's in desperate need of a drink. How is it possible for her to have gotten into that much trouble in less than three years? Fair enough, it sounds like she's managed to get herself out of it most of the time, but still.

"Oh, and there was that time you were trapped on that boat with a literal axe murderer."

Dylan thinks that Swain is taking far too much pleasure out of seeing him react, but here he interrupts, a look of disbelief on his face, "go on Swaino, pull the other one."

"No, seriously." Swain's smile fades. "He trapped Buffer and 2Dads, and he killed Lieutenant Bailey. The X managed to push him overboard."

Dylan shakes his head. He's _this _close to asking her why she's got such an issue with him doing his job and protecting her, but the X looks as if she's in another world, and he bites the words back. They walk through the passageways of the ship, leaving the X at her cabin, before entering their own. He moves through his routine automatically, muttering a terse "'night" to Swain before he lays in his rack and stares up at the top bunk. He thinks sleep will be a long time coming tonight.

:::

He wakes the next morning with a dull headache, the painkillers he'd taken the night before having clearly worn off. He decides against seeing Swain for more, he doesn't want to be out of action, and really, he's fine. A few bruises here and there aren't going to kill him. The headache is probably from a lack of sleep – he'd been restless all night, but he doesn't remember what had kept waking him.

He makes conversation with Bomber on autopilot as he gets his breakfast, pausing outside the mess as he hears his name, though he's clearly missed some of the conversation.

"- think about Dutchy and the X?" Dylan frowns. He hadn't taken Swain for a gossip.

"Mate, what are you talking about?" The second voice is Charge. Great.

"I'm just saying, Charge. You haven't seen him on boarding's, he doesn't let anyone get near her. And he looked pretty well smitten after she went off at him after that last boarding."

"So, he's a little overzealous." Charge laughs. "Smitten? Wait, are you saying you think -?"

"No, no." Swain stops, and Dylan hopes the conversation is over. "Well, they were together last night during shore leave."

"I thought we'd agreed to take everything 2Dads says with a grain of salt. Didn't the boss rip him a new one after he started those rumours about Buffer and the X?"

Dylan scowls. What rumours?

"2Dads knows nothing, and you'd better not say anything to him. But it's pretty weird, right?"

"What is?"

"I mean, well, Dutchy gets along with the rest of us just fine. But with the X…"

Dylan shakes his head. He can't believe this. He turns back to the galley, his hunger suddenly gone. He's not on duty for another three hours though, so he doesn't see the point in heading to the bridge. Instead, he heads to the boat deck, suddenly feeling the urge for a workout, hoping to work out the tension that's gathered at the base of his neck.

He scowls again, thinking of the conversation between his crewmates. Smitten?!_ Fucking unbelievable. _

:::

still keen to know what you're thinking, good or bad.


	4. i failed to see it (from the start)

**an: **huge, huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed. we've finally made it to ransom! in case you were wondering, despite the kiss in the first chapter, while kate/dutchy is endgame for this fic, it is slow, slow burn – they have a lot to get through before they get there. kate pov. some dialogue has been taken directly from the episode, though i've tried to paraphrase where i can so i'm not repeating swathes of dialogue.

:::

**i failed to see it (from the start)**

:::

Kate adjusts the floppy hat she's wearing and leans back into the lounger. They'd been given R&R at a resort off the coast (she still isn't sure how Mike had swung that), and Kate is determined to enjoy every moment. She's yet to go in the pool, though the sparkling water is beckoning her. She's got her book in her hands, but for once, she's finding it difficult to disappear into the pages.

This is what she hates about herself lately – she can't escape her thoughts. Even now, as she should be relaxing and enjoying the sunshine, her mind drifts to Mike. She's so unsure about how she feels now. She'd been ready to give Mike a chance, give _them_ a chance again, when he'd come back onto the Hammersley. The 'couple of weeks' has now become almost a month, and she's pretty sure that he's decided to stay on. She's going in circles, and it's driving her crazy.

She hisses as water splashes onto her heated skin, and turns to look at the person who'd just dived into the pool. Dutchy – of course it was Dutchy, the other man on her mind. Her eyes linger on the toned muscles of his back as he swims the length of the pool, and she is glad for the sunglasses she's wearing. She turns back to her book, inwardly berating herself. They've come to some semblance of a truce since their foray into the night markets during their last shore leave, though that could be because they've had a quiet patrol in the two days since then, with no boarding parties required. She's also pretty sure he's been avoiding being alone with her, but it's kind of hard to tell, as she's been doing the same. While she'd said that there was nothing to talk about, that kiss had been floating into her mind at the worst moments. She's not going to lie to herself, she'd kissed him back, and while that was worrying, she was more focused on the why. _Why_ had he kissed her?

Kate sighs, and lies back on the lounger. She closes her eyes, tries to focus on the warmth in the air, the fresh breeze on her skin. Anything but the mess her life had become suddenly.

:::

It's only when she gets back to her cabin after leaving Mike in the wardroom that she lets herself fall back into her thoughts. Once Fiona Douglas had told them that someone had taken Mia, all her focus had been on finding the little girl. There'd been no trace of her – they'd taken the RHIBs out, but it's high season and there are hundreds of boats to search through. She can't help but think if she'd just been quicker to realize that she'd gone on the boat, they may have had a chance.

Now she has a pulsing headache, and Mike's voice ringing in her ears. She hadn't been sure where the question had come from, but she'd bit the bullet and asked him if he'd thought about having kids. He'd been honest with her, she'd give him that, but the answer hadn't been what she'd been expecting. She knows what she wants – a husband, and children – she wants a family. She thought they'd been on the same page there, but Mike has her questioning that. It doesn't make Mike a monster that he hasn't thought about children, but it does make her wonder if there's any point in trying to pursue a relationship – he obviously hasn't been thinking about the future, and maybe that's all she needs to know, right there. They clearly want different things from life. Maybe it was a good thing that she'd cancelled their date before he was back on board as CO.

Not for the first time that day, Kate closes her eyes, hoping sleep will come quickly.

:::

When she enters the galley, the last person she expects to see is Dutchy. Her mind is still on Santi Wantha and Mia Douglas – she still thinks that Wantha is the mastermind behind the kidnapping, and she is determined to find the little girl. She grabs a cup of coffee, needing the kick, and is surprised when he questions her about writing up the incident. She's honestly put it out of her mind (hey, she was going to make this truce work if it killed her), but she's telling him the truth when she says that guys like Wantha don't intimidate her. She tries to crack a joke, her face falling when he stonewalls her.

When Charge walks in, she can't help herself. "What is with that guy? I could have said, yeah, you acted like an ape," she rants. She'd really thought they'd come to some sort of agreement, but she is clearly wrong.

"X," Charge starts, before he looks back at her, a smile on his face.

"What?"

"Guys like Dutchy…"

"What?" She questions again. If Charge has some insight on why her buffer acts like a Neanderthal while on boarding's, she really wants to know.

"They're," he hesitates, before continuing. "They're more at ease facing bullets than they are their own emotions."

As if that clears anything up. "Meaning?"

"He likes you."

"Are you kidding me? He hates me, clearly!" She says. She's surer of that now than ever.

"X," he pauses, "he _likes _you." She can hear the emphasis he places on the words and is stunned. "Trust me, I'm a guy. Guys know." He shrugs, as if he hasn't just dropped a bombshell on her.

"XO, Charge, bridge." Mike's voice over the intercom saves her from replying, and she busies herself with putting her mug in the sink, before walking out of the galley with Charge. He's quiet, but his earlier words are echoing in her mind on a loop. _He likes you, he likes you, he likes you. _Despite the kiss they'd both decided not to talk about, she's never once considered the fact that Dutchy might have feelings for her. He's blown hot and cold on her since he came aboard, the kiss and their somewhat silent excursion into the night markets the only somewhat positive interaction they've had so far. She makes her way up the stairs to the bridge, pushing away her meandering thoughts. She needs to concentrate on Mia Douglas.

:::

She feels guilty. The Silverado crew member is dead, and it had been her call to stay on Wantha, not the Zodiac. She's also angry – Wantha had been behind the death, regardless of whether he'd pulled the trigger, and Mia Douglas is still missing. She doesn't hold back on questioning him when they board the Silverado again.

When the ransom call comes through, she breathes a sigh of relief when Mia's voice appears on the line. At least she's alive. She has to believe that Mia's going to stay alive, too. When Wantha goes for the gun, she watches Dutchy take him down with a sense of disbelief. He's just taken out their best chance to find Mia Douglas.

Later, when they're back on board the Hammersley and Mike details Wantha's injuries, her frustration grows. Dutchy's overprotectiveness has put a little girl's life in danger. "You could have been a little less enthusiastic," she can't help but say when he tries to defend himself. She listens to him explain his reasoning, but while it makes sense on paper, she can't help but think he's holding something back.

Suddenly he's volunteering to make the ransom drop, and she knows that it's the wrong decision. She argues her case with Mike, and is furious when he cuts her off. She knows exactly what he's doing, and she's not going to stand for it. "May I have a word," she bites out. She can't believe he's doing this. "When they see that it's not Wantha, chances are they're gonna freak," she says as he follows her down the stairs and into his office.

"Well, hopefully they'll be more interested in the jewels,"

"Yeah, well what if they're not," she cuts in. "What if they start shooting?"

"Exactly," he says to her, as if he's proved a point and won the argument. "This is a dangerous operation, and that's why Dutchy,"

"No, a woman is less likely to cause them any alarm," she interrupts again.

"No."

"No?" She tilts her head, disbelieving. "You really don't think so?"

"Alright, maybe," he concedes, before he continues. "But there's no guarantee of that, we don't know who we're dealing with."

"The safety of Mia Douglas has to be our first priority here," she says.

"And what if something happens to you," he says, but she's not going to let him do this.

"Sir, as commanding officer - "

"Kate,"

"No, no. Don't do this. You came back on the ship, it was your choice." She looks up at him, furious that he's doing this, hating how emotional she sounds. "Your choice to keep it professional, this can't be personal between us now."

"I can't just block out how I feel about you," he says, and she almost wants to ask him exactly how he feels, and where he thinks their relationship is going, if they have a future, because god knows, she doesn't. Instead, she takes a deep breath, before continuing.

"I am the only logical choice for this operation, and you know that."

He finally nods. "Alright," he pauses, before adding, "Dutchy goes with you."

"No, he's too much of a cowboy." Regardless of Charge's earlier remarks, she doesn't trust him to follow her lead on this.

"He's the one man on this boat you'd want in a firefight."

"No," she shakes her head. "No," she repeats.

"He goes with you, or you don't go at all." Mike's voice is firm, and she knows she's not going to make him budge on this.

"Okay." She finally says. "I'm going to get ready." She moves past him to the door, and after closing it behind her, takes a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath. It almost feels symbolic, like she's finally closing the door on her and Mike, and whatever this thing between them is. She shakes her head, and starts walking. She'd been right while talking to Mike – Mia Douglas has to be the first priority – her relationship drama needs to take a backseat right now.

:::

"Are we all set?" She calls, as she walks up to them. She listens as Charge lists the modifications they've made to the zodiac, and scowls as he adds a parting shot. "… so you know, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

While they wait for the handoff, she debates the wisdom of bringing up Charge's comments. She bites the bullet, and what follows is the most embarrassing conversation she could have had with a crew member. She is going to _kill_ Charge, and she is going to make it as painful as this conversation has been.

Luckily, she's saved from having to hear his response with the appearance of the speedboat. "Where's Wantha?"

"Don't shoot," she calls in response, "he's been injured."

"What?"

"He fell and he broke his ankle, so he sent us. We have everything that you've asked for," she says, hoping that they buy it, though from the kidnapper's expression, she's not sure they are.

"Where's the girl?" Dutchy asks.

"Below," the other kidnapper replies.

"We need to see her - "

"You need to do as you're told," the kidnapper in the dark shirt interrupts, pointing his gun at her. She feels her stomach clench, her nerves worsening as Dutchy suddenly stands up, holding the case over the water.

"You shoot us, this'll go straight to the bottom," he says, and she hopes that he's not going to do anything stupid. "Show us the girl."

There's a tense silence, before the kidnapper's exchange a glance. "Get her," the one holding the gun says, before the other man brings her up from the cabin.

"Hey Mia, it's okay," she says quickly. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, now give us the stuff."

Dutchy hands it over to them, and she tries to bluff her way through the key issue.

"If this is a trick, you're dead."

"There's no trick," she replies. "No trick," she repeats, before shaking her head at Dutchy as he pulls the gun out. "Put it away," she whispers fiercely, as the kidnapper finally cuts through the lock.

"Let's see what a million bucks looks like." She's tense as he draws the pin out of the bag, and when he's sprayed with the dye, she scrambles on to the boat towards Mia. Behind her, she can hear Dutchy yell at her. Mia screams, and while she knows it's a bad idea, she has no choice – she can't leave the girl on the boat by herself.

"Drop your weapon," Dutchy shouts, even as she calls for Mia to stay below. One of the kidnappers grabs her, while the other shoots at the zodiac, blowing out the engine, but luckily seeming to miss Dutchy. Before she can do anything, the speedboat is on the move, and she knows that they're going too fast for the Hammersley to follow.

For now, she's on her own.

:::

please review, i love to hear what you're thinking.


	5. i never said (i'd be your friend)

**an: **i kept writing myself into a corner with this fic, but here's the next chapter, featuring drunk!dutchy, verydrunk!dutchy, a meddling bartender, and notamused!kate.

:::

**i never said (i'd be your friend)**

:::

Dylan sits at the bar and downs another shot of whiskey. It burns going down his throat, but it's a feeling that he relishes. He motions to the bartender for another drink, and silently raises this glass in a silent toast. _Here's to another spectacular fuck up, Dylan, you almost got the X killed, again. _He drinks, and requests another. The bartender raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and refills his glass. Dylan ignores the silent judgement – he's in a bar for chrissake, what does she expect, - and finishes the drink – _here's to the X, who managed to rescue herself and the little girl, with no help from you._

His mind flashes back to those interminable hours after they'd taken her on the speedboat – hours where, despite his optimistic words to Bird, the little voice in the back of his head had kept up a steady chant of _she's dead and it's your fault, she's dead and it's your fault, she'sdeadshe'sdeadshe'sdead._ He's always had a vivid imagination, and it had been all too easy for him to picture the kidnappers killing Kate. "Keep 'em coming," he grits out, motioning for another refill. He slams the drink back quickly, the empty glass echoing against the scratched wood of the bar.

"Rough day?" the bartender questions, as she pours.

Dylan glances up at her, but doesn't reply. He can still see kidnapper with his gun to Kate's head, his arm pulling her head back, can still hear the echo of gunshots on the island when they hadn't been able to see anything. He can still feel his gut twisting as he realized that she could die and that he'd spent the last day being an asshole to her. He drains the glass again, and then another two before the buzz finally kicks in. Dylan sighs, almost in relief as his gut finally stops churning. "Like you wouldn't believe," he says in answer, realizing absently that it had been a little while since she'd asked him.

"What's got you all twisted up, then?"

Dylan looks at her as she wipes up a spill on the bar. _God, she's a baby._ She looks even younger than Bird, and he idly wonders if she's even old enough to be serving him alcohol. He takes his time with this drink, staring down into his glass.

"Ah, girl trouble?" She laughs, as if she's discovered a big secret.

_Not in the way you're thinking, kid._ He drinks, motions for more, settles into a rhythm. The kid doesn't seem to mind that he isn't responding to her inane chatter, probably glad that she actually has a customer. Dylan isn't sure where he'd found this bar – it's a dive, for lack of a better word, and not one that the crew (nor the locals, it seemed) would frequent. He'd wanted to be alone tonight, unable to stand the thought of celebrating their _success_ tonight, as 2Dads had put it.

_She almost died and it's your fault._ He frowns as the thought flits through his mind. _She almost died and it's your fault. Your fault. _He drains his glass again, hoping to drown out his thoughts.

"'maybe wanna slow down there a little?" The kid's voice breaks through, and he blearily lifts his gaze to look at her.

"'m not drunk." He can still hear that sly taunting in his mind, still picture Kate's body lying on that island, bleeding out before he could find her. "Not drunk enough, anyway."

The kid shrugs, pours another drink. "Your liver, mate." She tilts her head. "Your wallet, too."

_Your fault,_ his brain helpfully chimes.

Dylan drinks.

:::

Hours later, he's feeling no pain. His brain has mercifully shut up, and his rough nerves finally feel smoothed out. He's just finished telling the kid about 2Dads and his crocodile escapades, when she shakes her head, interrupting him.

"So tell me about the girl," she says.

"What girl?" Dylan asks, looking around. There's no one else in the bar apart from him and Birdlite. _Birdlite, 'cause she's a younger version of Bird, _he thinks.

"_The_ girl," Birdlite says. "The one that's got you drowning your sorrows at 1AM on a Tuesday night."

"Oh," he says. "That's Kate." He raises his glass in a mock toast, before he drinks.

"Kate, huh?" Birdlite repeats. "So what did Kate do?"

"Kate hates me." He drains his glass. "Because I let her get kidnapped and she almost died and it was my fault," he adds helpfully, because he does like to be helpful. Dylan taps his glass, watches as she fills it while shaking her head.

"Kidnapped? Really?"

"Yup." He frowns, "She probably hates me because I've been trying not to talk to her as well – Swain and Charge think that I like her!" He looks indignant, as if he can't believe their nerve.

"Yeah, and who are they when they're at home?"

"Swain's our medic, and Charge keeps the ship running," he explains, before returning to his previous train of thought. "They think I _like her,_ like her," he adds, because clearly she hasn't understood why that's a ridiculous notion. "It's not like they know that I kissed her, even if it didn't mean anything and I really shouldn't have done it."

"Kate?"

"Yes, Kate!" Dylan slumps down on the bar, his mood dropping. "She almost died, and it was my fault."

"You tried apologizing to her?" Birdlite drawls, her expression decidedly unsympathetic.

"To Kate?" Dylan looks up. "Why would I do that?"

"'cause she almost died and it was your fault? For kissing her?"

"She's the one who jumped into the boat after things went wrong!" Dylan says, scowling, "and she kissed me back!"

"So it's her fault?"

"You're right, it is." Dylan replies, starting to become angry. Kate should have stayed in the zodiac, shouldn't have let herself get caught on the boat. _How is he meant to protect her when she keeps doing stuff like that? _

"Uh, that's not what I said mate," Birdlite says, distracting him.

Dylan shakes her words off, disregarding them. "If she just trusted me to do my job and protect her, we'd be fine," he rants, starting to build up steam. "Instead, it's 'stop it Dutchy, I can look after myself', hah, as if that's worked out so well for her!"

"You managed to rescue her then?"

"Well, I mean, she did save the kid, and managed to take out both kidnappers before we got to the island," Dylan says, "but that's beside the point!"

"Well, I kinda think that _is_ the point – she's clearly able to take care of herself," Birdlite points out, pouring him another glass. "Maybe you should be the one trusting her," she says, shrugging.

Dylan frowns. He _does_ trust Kate – it's like he'd told Bird earlier, the X is smart, and tough, – he just thinks she shouldn't be so careless about her own safety. He drains his glass again. "I need another drink."

Birdlite stares at him, before she shakes her head. "Sorry mate, I think you're done for the night."

"What?"

Birdlite shrugs. "You've gone through about two thirds of this bottle," she holds the bottle and shakes it in front of him. "You're done."

"Well, clearly there's more in the bottle."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, but I'm cutting you off, so you can't have any more."

"Oh." Dylan nods in understanding.

"How're you planning to get home?" Birdlite asks, eyeing the keys he'd placed on the bar earlier in the night.

"Home?" he repeats, looking at his keys as well. "Can't drive," he says promptly, "I'm drunk."

"Yeah, no shit," she says under her breath, before sighing. "Want me to call you a taxi?"

"A taxi?" Dylan asks, puzzled. "Why? Where am I going?"

"Hoo boy," Birdlite says, shaking her head. "Probably should've cut you off earlier." She watches as he folds his arms on the bar, and lays his head down. "Oi, mate, where's your phone?"

"Hmm?" Dylan pulls his phone out of his pocket and puts it on the bar, pillowing his head on his arms again. He can hear her clicking through his phone, but it's muffled, as if from miles away. He closes his eyes, and relaxes, let's his thoughts drift away.

:::

She picks up his phone, quickly scrolling through his contacts. She can see some of the names that the cute blond had mentioned (seriously, if he hadn't mentioned that he was Navy, she'd have been worried about some of the nicknames on his contacts list – 2Dads? Bomber?!), but she stops at 'Kate' and pauses, wondering if she should call. The blond is sleeping on her bar, and she can't leave him there – she does want to go home herself. Sighing, she presses the call button, listening to it ring through several times, before a woman's voice comes through.

"_Dutchy?"_

"Uh, no. I'm calling from Garrison's – I have, what'd you call him, Dutchy?" She waits for the somewhat bewildered confirmation before she continues. "Yeah, he told me to call you for a pickup?" Okay, so maybe that was a little white lie.

"_What?"_

"Yeah, he's blitzed, and I don't want to kick him out in this state. He's sleeping it off right now," she adds, biting back a laugh at the unfiltered response coming through the cell phone. Poor guy, this Kate chick sounded super mad. She rattles off directions when she's asked, not surprised that Kate didn't know where the bar was. Not many people did – she'd been surprised when Dutchy (these nicknames, man!) had walked in.

"See you soon," she says cheerily, before hanging up. The other woman had said she'd be there in ten minutes, so she can't have been too far away. She spends the rest of the time setting the bar to rights, wiping down the surfaces more from habit than necessity.

Sooner than she'd have thought, the door swings open and a pretty blonde woman walks in, wearing a blue dress and killer heels. Whoops, she must have been out already. Hopefully she hadn't interrupted a date?

"Hey, you must be Kate?" She nods towards the sleeping blond. "Your boyfriend's over there." Okay, so she knows they're not dating, but hey, she's a bartender, meddling is practically in her job description!

"My _what?_"

:::

an: okay, so notamused!kate was pretty much a cameo, but the next chapter is from her pov, so there's that to look forward to? as always, let me know what you're thinking.


	6. you're ripped at every edge

an: oh man, this chapter gave me _so _much trouble, you have no idea. had to play around with the timeline a little to make it work, so we're going to go straight into 4.09 (dutch courage), and then maybe come back to the eps in between. I've also tried not to rehash the episode, because I thought it was pretty perfect to start off with, but there will be moments from the ep included.

:::

**you're ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece)**

:::

Boyfriend? Kate stares at the young bartender and blinks. Maybe she'd drunk more than she'd thought? She shakes her head, brushing the thought off as she walked towards Dutchy. He's slumped on the bar, his head lying on his arms. She reaches out with her arm, tries to shake him awake. "Dutchy?" No response. She jostles him harder, and then rolls her eyes. This is not how she was expecting her night to go. "Dutchy, c'mon, wake up."

Dutchy shifts his head, mumbling a little before he blinks. "Kate!" He smiles widely, his eyes bright.

She inhales sharply – that smile is deadly, and he's never directed it at her like this. She ignores the butterflies that have taken flight in her stomach and motions for him to stand up. "Hey Dutchy," she says, and smiles involuntarily. Dutchy seems to be a happy drunk, thank god, so he shouldn't be too hard to handle.

"Hi Kate." He pushes away from the bar and stands, swaying. She hurriedly grabs his arm to steady him, and then realizes that he's either too tall or she's too short for this to work out. "Hi Kate," he repeats happily, and then before she can respond, his arms are banded around hers and he's hugging her tight. "I'm so glad you're not dead!"

"Uh, so am I," she says, gently twisting out of his arms. She turns to the bartender, who cuts off her laugh hastily. "Is there anything left to cover on his tab?"

"Uh, no, I've closed all that off, he gave me his card earlier," the young brunette replies, nodding to the wallet, phone and keys on the bar.

Kate gives Dutchy his wallet, watching carefully as he shoves it into his pocket, before taking his phone and keys and throwing them into her bag. "Alright big guy, let's get you home, aye?" She tugs on his arm, relieved when he follows her easily – she's probably had a few too many wines tonight, and she doesn't think she's up to struggling with him.

"Thanks!" she calls out to the bartender as they leave the bar, and she's glad to see that her cab is still waiting. She helps Dutchy in, and then climbs in the other side, looking to Dutchy expectantly. "So where are we going Dutchy?" She prompts when he doesn't say anything.

"Home," he says, leaning over to buckle her in, his fingers fumbling, before he does his own.

She sighs, and waits till he's back in his seat before she asks, "and where's home?" He looks at her blankly. Kate rolls her eyes, and then gives the cabbie her address. He can sleep it off in her spare room. There's a fifteen-minute drive back to hers, and they sit in silence the entire time. After paying the driver, she leads Dutchy to her door, fishing out her keys.

"You could have died," he says suddenly, the smile gone from his face. Kate closes the door behind them, and leads him to the kitchen, pulling water bottles from the fridge, and handing one to him, before taking the other for herself. "You could have died, Kate," he repeats, twisting the top off and taking a long drink.

She ignores his words, and tries not to look at the line of his throat as he swallows. She is not going to have this conversation with him, not now. They've both had too much alcohol, and nope, she is not going there. She drinks from her own bottle, hoping that he'll have forgotten his words by the time she's done.

"What, nothing to say?"

No such luck then. "It all worked out, Dutchy." That's all she's willing to say about it, she doesn't want to think about it. Not about how close she'd come to getting her brains blown out today, not about their mad scramble through the forest, trying to keep Mia going as the men chased behind them. Not about how the smell of burnt flesh seemed to linger in the air after she'd shot one of them with the flare gun. That had been the whole point of going out, after all.

"Always the freaking hero, Kate," he scowls. "Jumping on to that boat has to be the dumbest thing I've ever seen you do," he rants. "They could have killed you, do you get that?"

She flushes angrily, before she takes a deep breath, tells herself to ignore it, to not take the bait. God, had she thought he was a _happy_ drunk? "Look Dutchy, it's late, you're drunk." She turns to leave the kitchen, hopes he will follow her. "I'll show you to the guest room, you can crash there for the night." She shows him the bathroom, pulls out a spare towel, and leaves him to it, desperately hoping that he's not the type to throw up.

"Wait, Kate, I'm sorry," she turns to see him leaning against the door, running a hand through his hair. "You're not dumb. You're brave." He pauses and takes a small step forward before he stops. "You're the bravest person I know, and I just – it's my job to keep you safe, and what if I'm too late, what if I can't –" He cuts himself off. "I'm sorry," he finishes quietly, meets her gaze head on, before he turns back into the room.

Oh. _Oh._ She watches him close the door behind him, but makes no move to her own room. Kate lifts a hand to her stomach, tries to calm the butterflies. Sure, Dutchy is handsome, but she hadn't really been attracted to him beyond a surface level, his standoffish behaviour and their constant arguing having turned her off. But this Dutchy? Who let her in, who let himself be vulnerable in front of her? That's a whole different ball game.

Kate shakes her head, trying to dispel the thought. It's the wine, it has to be the wine. She gets ready for bed on autopilot, her mind stuck on the man sleeping in her guest room. She settles on her pillow, arms folded under her head, and stares up at the ceiling. Sleep will be a long time coming tonight, she thinks.

:::

Kate bolts upright, the scream caught in her throat. The gunshot echoes in her ears, even as she shoves sweat drenched hair out of her face. Her phone buzzes insistently on the bedside table, becoming progressively louder. She takes a second to steady her breathing before she reaches out and picks it up, answering automatically.

She listens to Mike's apologetic voice as he tells her they've been crash-sailed and have to be back on Hammersley in three hours. Hanging up, she slumps back into her pillows, her head pounding. Ugh, she probably should have stopped after the first three or four glasses of wine. She tilts her head, and groans as she catches sight of her alarm clock, the red numbers steadily ticking into four AM. She has not had enough sleep for this. Kate pulls herself out of bed, ignores the siren call from her pillow. She strips, stumbles into the shower and waits till she feels a bit more human.

She's in the middle of packing her sea bag when an unfamiliar ring tone sounds through her room. She stops, wincing as she tries to hunt the source down, and it's not till she pulls the phone out of her purse that she remembers Dutchy is crashing in her spare room. She quickly switches the phone to silent, and bites her lip. He'd opened up, just a little, last night, and she can't help but let it colour her thoughts.

Kate knocks on the closed door, softly at first, and then a little harder. When there's no response, she opens it carefully, switching the light on. Dutchy's sleeping on his stomach, his face turned away. He'd stripped off his shirt, and the sheet was lying low, exposing his tanned skin. "Dutchy?" She calls, hoping he'll wake up and she won't have to enter the room.

When he doesn't show any sign of waking up, she sighs. She doesn't have time for this – they have to be on the ship in two hours, and they still need to pick up Dutchy's car from the bar. She moves closer to the bed, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder, and tries to shake him awake. "Dutchy, wake up, we've been crash-sailed."

He groans, turning his head. She moves her hand, waits for him to open his eyes. "What – Kate?" His voice is thick with sleep, and somehow the sound of her name in that tone sends a tingle skating down her spine.

"We've got two hours before we have to be on the Hammersley," she says, brushing off her reaction. When he merely looks at her, a confused look on his face, she adds, "you were too drunk to give me your address last night, so you crashed at mine."

"Oh," he rubs a hand over his face. "Uh, thanks." He turns and sits up, let's out a groan. "Christ, what did I drink last night?"

"About two thirds of a very expensive bottle of whiskey, from what I could tell." She pulls back, adding, "I'll go get you some nurofen while you get yourself sorted, yeah?"

She closes the door behind her and stops by her room to finish packing her bag, before heading downstairs. By the time he makes it downstairs, dressed in yesterday's clothes, she has a bottle of water and painkillers ready for him. She waits till he's done before she speaks. "I'll take you to yours so you can get your bag – I don't think there's any point in getting your car right now."

He nods. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm still over the limit, if you're right about how much I had." He sculls the rest of the water, grimacing. "What happened last night? The last thing I remember is the bartender cutting me off."

She blinks. "Nothing," she says, her voice quiet. Maybe it's better that he doesn't remember what he'd said. "Nothing to worry about, anyway."

:::

She breaks up the argument between RO and Dutchy, ignores 2Dads quip. The cut on her neck itches, and it feels like every swallow stretches the skin and reopens it. Mike hadn't held back, and she feels guilty that they have no excuse. The boarding had been a complete write off, even if it had started well. The grog had been a good find, and then suddenly there had been cold steel at her neck.

She tries to run through the events in her mind, and then decides to find Dutchy. She needs answers. When she comes across him in the senior sailor's mess, he's staring blindly into the distance, and it takes him a moment to notice her. She watches him withdraw, can almost see the walls going up.

"There a problem, X?"

"I don't know Dutchy, you tell me."

He tries to brush it off, and they seem to be going in circles. She doesn't know how to respond to his question, doesn't know if she would have made the same call if their positions had been reversed. They stare at each other, silently waiting. She moves aside to let him leave, watching his back as he moves further away from her.

:::

Kate stands at the entrance of the café, wondering if she should approach him again. He's brushed her off numerous times in the last couple of days, and honestly, she's not even sure why she's still trying. But Mike had been serious about starting disciplinary procedures, and she's not willing to let him stuff his career up. There is something going on with him, and she's determined to find it out. Steeling herself, she approaches him as the waitress leaves. "Waste of a medal, just throwing it away. Hear they're worth a fair whack on eBay." He turns to her, before looking away. She sighs, pulling off her cap and sitting down at the table. "Dutchy, I don't know what's going on with you, but you just left the boat again without asking permission."

"What's it to you?"

"I'm your divisional officer, it's my job to know what's going on with my sailors." She leans forward. "Look, I'm just trying to understand you."

"That big a mystery, am I?"

She resists the urge to whack the smirk off his face. "You are overprotective of me, and you have been on boarding's ever since you stepped foot on Hammersley," she wonders if she should bring up what he'd said last night, before deciding against it. "But in day to day running of the ship, you avoid me like the plague. I don't get that."

"There's nothing to get."

"Do you really hate me that much?" Christ, she sounds like she's back in high school, and she hate's that it's actually a valid question right now, considering how he's been treating her.

"No." He says quickly, before continuing. "Look, you just, you've got it all wrong, okay?"

"Oh, have I?" She draws back, frustrated.

"What do you want me to say to you X, that I'm sorry?"

"No, I don't want your apologies – "

"Well, what do you want?"

"I want you to trust me," she replies, leaning forward again to emphasize her words.

"It's not _you_ I don't trust, okay."

"But why don't you trust yourself?" She holds her breath as he pauses, hoping that he'll let her in and talk to her. Instead, he sees the grog-runners truck, and suddenly she's holding onto him on the back of a stolen motorbike as they race across the streets, trying to keep up.

Before she knows it, she's waiting nervously behind the truck, watching out for Dutchy's return. Instead, she hears the distinctive slide of a shotgun behind her and closes her eyes. "Hello again."

He presses the barrel of the gun against her back, pushing her forward. "Get to the boat, nice and easy now."

She stumbles forward, her heart in her throat. Had they found Dutchy? On the boat, she bites back a cry at seeing him laid out on the floor. The man pushes her forward again, before starting a heated discussion with the others, but she ignores it, kneeling next his prone body. "Dutchy," she whispers, relieved when he lets out a groan. He's not dead.

She follows the demands of the grog-runner, pulling off her DPNU shirt so they can search her for weapons, before tying it off around her waist. They do the same to Dutchy, before he barks out a command and then the boat is moving. "Where are we going?" She asks, keeping a wary eye out. "They're going to be looking for us."

"Good," he says, before he rears back. The last thing she remembers is a blinding pain in her temple before her eyes slide shut.

:::

She comes to slowly, swearing as she realizes that she's tied up. The small room is dank and smells musty. "You okay, X?" Dutchy asks from behind her and she twists, trying to see his face.

"Yeah," she says. Her head is pounding, but otherwise she is fine.

He struggles against their bindings, letting out a grunt as he fails to get out of them. He pants, his heavy breathing loud in the enclosed space. "It's no good. This is my fault, I dragged you into this."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault, I made my own choice."

"Yeah, to trust me. I tried to keep you safe," he pauses and she waits. "I just didn't do a very good job of it." She looks towards him, a little confused. "If I was quicker, if I was smarter, if I anticipated the danger," he continues, his voice thick.

"You couldn't have anticipated this," she says. Dutchy continues as if he hasn't heard her, and suddenly she realizes that he hasn't. "You're talking about the Gulf."

"… and I score a medal for it," he scoffs. "How bloody ironic is that?"

"I've read the report. You were saving the lives of six sailors, the boarding officer's death, it wasn't your fault."

"I was his buffer – second in command. I should have been by his side, protecting him."

His voice cracks a little, and she can hear the grief buried deep. Suddenly it feels like a veil's been lifted, as if all their interactions become clear in this context. "Is that why you're always protecting me, and why you can hardly talk to me, have you been that petrified of it happening again?"

"It did happen again – I froze. Almost cost you your life."

"Dutchy, it was a split-second, that was all," she says, trying to get him to believe her. He's quiet, and they sit in silence. She doesn't say anything, trying to process what he's said. _Oh Dutchy_, she thinks, her heart aching, a little. She can't imagine what it's been like, if he's lived with this guilt since the Gulf. Kate shifts. Her hands are going numb, and she flexes her wrist, trying to get the feeling back.

"Hey, I think I can feel something," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"It's like a kink in the rope." She can feel him tugging on the rope. "Can you just bend your wrist back a bit further." She does, though she's unable to hide the gasp of pain. "Sorry, I know it hurts."

She flexes further, pushing the pain aside and waits till she feels her wrists slip free, before she turns and unties him. "Are you okay," he asks her quickly.

"Are you okay?" She asks him in return, her eyes searching.

He nods, looking down. "Let's get you out of here."

They climb out, and she squints against the brightness of the sun. They're standing on a pontoon, and all she can see ahead of her is miles of ocean. "Where the hell are we?"

:::

please let me know what you're thinking, I really appreciate the reviews!


	7. seal my heart (and break my pride)

**an: **so I'm going through cycles with my writing, I guess? The last chapter of castaways took forever to write, and this one practically wrote itself. as always, thanks a million for the reviews, faves & follows, I really appreciate it.

:::

**seal my heart (and break my pride) **

:::

Dylan shades his eyes against the glare of the sun, his eyes taking in the miles of ocean before him. The pontoon sways underneath them, and he shifts to keep his balance, before checking to see how Kate is doing. She's staring out into the sea, but hasn't said anything beyond her earlier question. Reassured, he continues to look around, his countenance brightening when he spies land. It's a bit far, but he thinks they can make it.

When Kate disagrees, he frowns. It's only a couple of miles at most – she should be able to swim that, even if it is a bit of a struggle. He decides to put it aside for now. His gut is telling him to stay with her, but his head is telling him that he needs to go for help – they have no water, no way of contacting anyone. They're sitting ducks, out here in open water, – and that's precisely why he doesn't want to leave her alone.

"Dutchy, I won't make it."

He looks at the expanse of water, and then back at her. "Alright. As soon as I reach land, I'll raise the alarm." He takes off his boots and t-shirt, and gives her one last look before he dives into the water. He cuts through the water quickly, and he's made it quite far before he hears the powerful thrum of an engine approaching. He stops and turns back, relief filling him as he sees the boat. Starting to swim back to the pontoon, he looks up to see Sergeant Booker mooring his boat to the pontoon. At least it was someone they knew – Kate could give him a head's up on the grog runners while they waited for Dylan.

It's not till he lifts his head to take another breath that he sees the gun. Nausea churns in his gut, and instantly, he's filled with recrimination. He should never have left her alone. He powers through the water, trying to get back as soon as possible. Kate must see him coming, because she manoeuvres him so that his back is turned to Dylan. He can get angry about that later, he thinks as he climbs onto the boat. He has only moments to put together a plan, but when the cop lifts the gun and grabs her, he moves, yelling out as he tackles him into the water. The gun goes off in the struggle, before they surface, and Booker's pained yell fills the air. Dutchy takes a glancing blow to the side, and hits back, knocking the older man out.

"Dutchy, thank god!" Kate says, kneeling on the pontoon. "Are you alright?"

He's breathing heavily, but he smiles up at her, relieved that she's okay. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replies, closing the distance to the pontoon, dragging Booker behind him. "Here, I'll push him up if you can drag him the rest of the way," he waits till she's hooked her hands around Booker's arms before he pushes him, leveraging himself against the pontoon. "Careful, he's a heavy bastard."

Dylan pulls himself up onto the pontoon. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think we've done this dance before," she says, but she's smiling, so he doesn't think she's too mad.

He looks down at Booker, disgust on his face. The man is a disgrace to the uniform, and to the job. He leans down to check the bullet wound. It's bleeding, but it's sluggish – he'll live. He shakes Booker – he hadn't hit the man that hard, so he should be coming to soon.

"I'll radio Hammersley," Kate says, as she moves past. "How's he doing?"

"He'll live," Dylan says. He gives Booker a quick pat down, making sure he doesn't have any weapons, before he moves away.

Kate jumps back onto the pontoon, shading her eyes. "The Hammersley's still another hour out."

Dylan sits down on the edge, dragging his feet through the water. "Water's nice," he says, giving Kate a sideways glance.

She rolls her eyes, but gamely takes off her boots and socks, before rolling her pants up. She puts her feet in without testing the water and gives a small shriek. "Dutchy, that's freezing!" She laughs, and gives him a little shove, though she leaves her feet in.

"C'mon X, it's not that bad." He leans back on his hands, enjoys the feeling of the sun on his face. Eventually they're going to have to talk about what he's said (she's really not the type to let things go, he's found), but for now, he's okay with the silence.

Minutes later, she pulls her feet out. "Too cold," she says, standing up. Dylan shrugs, and stands up as well, stretching out the kinks in his back. He's still bruised up, though the sun is warm enough that the heat is nice. He eyes the spot where Booker is still lying. As if sensing his gaze, Booker groans then, coming to. Kate looks over as well, and then sighs. "You might want to put pressure on that wound," she says, giving Dylan a look.

Okay, he could have maybe tied something around it, but it hadn't been bleeding that much when he'd checked it. "Here," he starts, helping Booker up. "If you're on this level, you can lean against the side." It'll give him a bit more leverage, anyway.

They leave him to his own devices, and sit down on the edge away from the boat. The pontoon rocks gently in the waves, and he can see Kate bask in the sun from the corner of his eye.

"So we gonna talk about it?" She asks him, her voice soft.

"Do I have a choice?" He replies, but he's not mad at her for asking.

He can feel her looking at him, so he turns to meet her gaze. "It doesn't have to be with me – but you need to talk to someone, Dutchy. It'll end up eating you alive, otherwise."

He's silent in the face of her compassion. How can she be so damn noble? He'd almost gotten her killed because he hadn't dealt with shit, and she's still focused on making _him_ feel better. He looks back at the water, letting the glare from the sun fill his gaze. It's easier if he doesn't have to look at her, if he doesn't have to see the disgust on her face. Haltingly, he starts to talk.

"It was meant to be his last shift. Andy – the boardo – he was due to fly back home. His wife was pregnant, their third kid, and he'd missed the first two births already – she'd have killed him if he missed this one, he always said. Three more hours, that's all he had left." He pauses, his voice thick. "Then the nav picks up this boat on the radar – no transponder, not responding to our calls. The boss makes the call to board – and Andy wasn't the type to shirk."

Kate doesn't respond, but does reach out and place a hand over his arm. The brief contact steadies him, let's him continue. "We'd cleared and secured the upper decks and the wheelhouse. Then he heard something below decks, in the hold. We followed him in, and then all of a sudden, he has a knife to his neck, and I," he closes his eyes, the image playing out in his head. "I took the shot, I swear I did, but I was too late. I couldn't save him – and then he was bleeding out all over the floor, and I knew he wasn't going to be there for this kid either."

His fingers clench against the metal sides of the pontoon. "And it was my fault," he grits out. Now she knows, now she knows why she shouldn't trust him to keep her safe, why she shouldn't follow his lead when it comes to things like this. It'll only end up in her getting hurt. "Just like it was on the boat a couple of days ago. RO was right – I did freeze, I am a coward. Worse, because it wasn't just my life on the line – it was yours."

"Dutchy, look at me." He's stunned when he feels her hand on his face, turning him to face her. She's let him go, but he can still feel the ghost of her touch. "It wasn't your fault. I wasn't there in the Gulf, so I'm going to have to take the word of those six sailors who said that _you_ saved their lives, Dutchy. You saved their lives," she emphasizes, and he can almost believe her. "And as for what happened a couple of days ago – maybe you did freeze."

His heart drops. This is it. This is where she tells him that he's right.

"Dutchy, even if you froze, it was only for a moment. That's all." She smiles at him and he _does not understand_. Doesn't she realize that she could have died? "It could have been any one of us in that position. RO doesn't get to call you a coward Dutchy, not when he wasn't in that position." She sighs, and turns back to look out over the water. "You asked me what I thought, of the call you made."

He winces. That had been a pretty shit move, he'd admit.

"I would have made the same call, Dutchy." She shifts back to him, her eyes steady. "Hands down. I wouldn't have risked it, not when someone's life was at stake."

"X – I – I don't understand," he finally says.

"You made the right call, Dutchy. You saved my life in that hold." She rolls her eyes. "And you've tried to protect me since you've stepped onto the Hammersley, even when I didn't always need it. Or appreciate it," she adds, almost as an afterthought.

"It's not that I think you're weak, or that you can't do your job," he offers. "It's just – you're so small," he blurts. "Andy was built – taller than me, and twice my size. And this guy still got the drop on him."

She doesn't say anything, merely looks at him with a brow raised. "I know you can do your job, and I know that you said that you're not intimidated easily – it's just that sometimes – "

"Dutchy, I don't mind help. You're meant to be my buffer, my second-in-command, right? I trust you to have my back – I just need you to trust that I know when to ask for help."

He blinks. When she puts it like that … "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." At her incredulous look, he shrugs. "I'll try, anyway." He looks at her, a little more seriously. "I can't say it'll happen overnight, X, but I'll make the effort."

"Oka – no, we're not doing that again," she cuts herself off with a small laugh.

They sit in silence, and he feels like they're both comfortable in each other's presence for the first time since they'd met.

:::

He's just about to finish his reports, after sending Bird off, when he looks up to see RO standing by the door. Dylan raises a brow, pulling away from the keyboard. "There a problem, RO?"

"I just don't get it," the younger sailor says. Dylan doesn't respond, just waits him out. "The X went to bat for you – again," RO continues. "The boss wanted you up on charges, and the X took the heat. Said it was her idea to follow the truck."

Dylan frowns. He'd been expecting the rip, but hadn't realized that Kate had stepped in. "What do you mean?"

"Said that she didn't think charges were warranted, in this case." RO frowns. "I know you've had a problem with her since you came on board, and I don't know why. But you froze, you almost got her killed, and she still trusts you."

Dylan flinches imperceptibly. RO's not telling him anything he doesn't already know.

"She's a good XO. Probably the best we've had on board." RO pauses. "More than that, she's a good person."

"What are you trying to say, RO?" Dylan's had it with cryptic conversations.

RO starts to reply, but is interrupted by the boss's voice on the tannoy, calling RO to the bridge. He shakes his head, and leaves Dylan behind, once again stuck in his thoughts.

:::

The next morning, they dock back at Cairns. He hasn't slept much, keeps going over the last few days in his head. He's avoided Kate where he can, not sure what to say to her, now that RO's thrown him into a tailspin again. So of course, because life likes to fuck with him, she's standing on the dock when he leaves the Hammersley.

"Ma'am."

"Dutchy," she calls out, and he can't help but turn to meet her gaze. "You weren't responsible for what happened in the Gulf, you saved the lives of six sailors on that boarding."

"I know that," he bites out, not even sure why he's suddenly angry. They'd discussed this while on that pontoon yesterday. He's still at fault for what happened to her on that boarding, the reason for the cut that still mars her neck, and everyone on the crew knows it.

"And yesterday you saved my life," she adds. He inhales sharply. How does she _do_ this? How does she always know where to poke and prod to get her answers? She holds up his medal. "I made 2Dads go for a swim."

He smiles, small and unnoticeable as it is. He reaches out for the medal, but she holds onto it for a moment longer. "You earned that – never forget," she says, letting go. He looks down at the medal in his hand, and for the first time, he feels like maybe he wasn't unworthy of it. "So now maybe you'll talk to me a bit more every now and then, hey?" She walks off, and he can't help but turn to watch her walk away.

"X," he calls, waits for her to look back. "Thanks," he says. He doesn't add - for being you, for understanding, for forgiving, for giving him a chance, even as he thinks it. He looks back down at the medal, before turning back to look at the Hammersley, and the ocean behind the ship. His fingers curl around the medal, and for a moment he's tempted to throw it back in – instead, he carefully pins it to his uniform, and finally, finally, feels the ever-present heavy weight of guilt lift from his shoulders.

:::


	8. but i was sure (we could see a new start

:::

**but i was sure (we could see a new start)**

:::

The brief knock on her door surprises Kate. She's just barely woken up herself, and is desperately waiting for her coffee machine to kick in. Looking down at her pyjamas, she shrugs. If they're at her door before 8AM, they can deal with her in sleep pants.

"Dutchy?"

"Uh, hey X," he says, a sheepish smile on his face. He holds up a paper bag and a disposable drink tray. "I brought breakfast? And coffee?" He says it as a question, and bemused, she moves aside to let him in.

"Thanks, I guess?" She pulls a coffee from the tray and takes a tentative sip. "Uh, what are you doing here, Dutchy?" She leads him into the kitchen, and watches as he pulls out several bagels and trimmings, before she pulls out a couple of plates.

"Having breakfast?"

"Dutchy."

He shifts, looking uncomfortable. "I just wanted to say thank you," he starts. "For letting me crash here that night, and everything else."

"You didn't have to do this, and you don't have to thank me," she says, surprised. "But you're welcome."

"RO said you talked the boss out of a captain's table."

"Yeah." She starts putting together a bagel, eyeing the amount of food. "Dutchy, there's a lot – "

"Why?" He interrupts, leaning against the counter. "Why talk him out of it? You and I both know that I disobeyed orders."

"Well, I didn't think that it was the right move," she starts, trying to articulate what had pretty much been a gut reaction. When Mike had brought it up, she'd immediately known that it wasn't the right thing to do – but trying to explain why, was an entirely different matter.

"X, RO said that you basically took the blame for us following that truck."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Sounds like I need a talk with RO," she mutters. "Dutchy, it was my call to follow the truck. I agreed to let you go on the Mercure, and everything that happened from there is on me as much as it is on you."

"But -"

"Let it go, Dutchy," she says. "Are you going to eat something, or not?" She gestures to the spread on the counter, changing the subject. Dutchy looks at her for a long moment, before he nods, and moves to the food.

They sit in silence for a while, eating, and Kate marvels at it, because as awkward as this situation should be, it isn't. She's comfortable here, sitting at her kitchen counter, eating in silence with him.

"Hey, X, can I ask you something?" He's helped her clean up the counter, and now they're sitting down again with fresh cups of coffee.

Kate looks at him, sipping from her cup, and nods slowly.

"Back on that pontoon – you were adamant that you couldn't swim that far," he shifts, looking uncomfortable. "It was a couple of miles, X."

She raises an eyebrow, waiting for the question. When it doesn't look like he's going to continue, she sighs, a little embarrassed. "There's not really a lot of time on patrol boats for swimming, Dutchy. And well, it's been a while. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep up the whole way," and wasn't that something she'd hated admitting. She knows her limits though.

"Oh." He shifts again, opens his mouth and then closes it again.

"Dutchy?"

"I could help you out with that?" He blurts, and it takes her a second to parse his rushed words. She blinks, taken aback. "Not today, I've probably intruded enough, but if you want, I could help you out."

"With swimming?" She's a little flummoxed, and she's pretty sure it shows on her face, because his face falls.

"Not in a bad way – just, you know, if you ever want some company while you're working out…" He winces, and it's strangely fascinating to see him so flustered. He's usually so put together, and the only other time she's seen him like this is when they were browsing the markets together.

He seems to steel himself, taking a deep breath. "Also, and don't take this the wrong way, please,"

"Dutchy, that's almost guaranteed that I'm going to take it the wrong way."

"X – I just," he pauses, "you asked me to trust you. Knowing that you can take care of yourself is one thing, but seeing it is another."

She frowns, incredulous. He couldn't be serious?

"This is me trying," he adds, heading off her angry tirade. "Please."

She stares at him for a long moment, taking in the expression on his face. He looks sincere, and strangely, it doesn't feel like he's disparaging her abilities, even though that's absolutely what it sounds like. Slowly, she nods. "Okay."

His face brightens, the tense lines of his shoulders relaxing. "Thank you," he says.

"I'm not promising anything," she warns. They get precious little shore leave at home, without being crash-sailed, anyway. She's not sure she wants to spend it working out with her buffer.

He nods, seeming to understand that that's all she's willing to give. "Anyway, I'll leave you to your day, yeah."

He hastily downs his coffee, before he pulls himself together and stands up. "Thanks again for breakfast," she offers, walking him to the door. He turns around once outside, and smiles briefly, before walking to his car. She takes a moment to admire the convertible again, then turns and closes the door behind her, shaking her head in bemusement.

:::

Three hours later, she's swearing under her breath as she hastily readies her sea bag. She's not sure if she'd jinxed it, but they've been crash-sailed, _again_.

She breezes through port security, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, before walking towards the Hammersley, catching up with Bird, who seemed to be waiting ahead.

"Morning ma'am," Bird offers her a sunny smile.

"Hey Bird," Kate looks around. "Not heading up to the ship yet?"

"Just waiting for Bomber, ma'am," the younger woman looks worried. "Is that okay?"

Kate laughs, "that's fine Bird, just be on the ship before we muster out, yeah?" Shaking her head, she continues to the Hammersley, a smile still on her face. "Sir."

"Good morning X," Mike says, a smile on his face.

"So what happened this time?" She asks as they head onto the ship.

"The Wollongong is down for repairs again."

"Seriously?" She sighed. How did they always draw the short straw? "How long are we out for?"

"Long enough," is all he says before he leaves her at her cabin. She watches him walk away silently, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She shakes the feeling off, and enters her cabin, storing away her bag, before heading up to the bridge. Turning into the next passageway, she stops short. "Oh, hey Dutchy."

"Hey X." He's slung his bag over his shoulder, and seems to take up the whole passage. "Oh, sorry," he seems to realize that he's in her way, and moves aside, leaving room for her to walk past.

She brushes past him, trying to ignore the heat radiating from his body. Her stomach flips, and she ignores that too, leaving him behind as she continues walking.

:::

She supposes this boarding will be either their making or undoing. She's not sure what she'll do if he's still an overprotective idiot, even if she sort of understands the reason behind it.

"2Dads, Bomber, check the wheelhouse, Swain, clear the upper decks, Dutchy, you're with me," she orders as the RHIB powers closer to the FFV. "Let's go," she calls as they clamber onto the FFV.

She's surprised when the boarding goes successfully, and Dutchy seems to have taken her words to heart, backing her up, but still giving her the space she needs to do her job.

He seems to pick up on her surprise. "I said I'd make an effort, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." She looks at him with fresh eyes, reassessing, and thinks that they could actually make this work.

:::

please let me know what you think, I really do appreciate the reviews.


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